The Lost Tales of Beedle the Bard: Haika and the Cursed Moonstone
by Tuzilla
Summary: This is story #1 from a cache of tales written by Beedle the Bard that was recently discovered and published. Listen to Ginny read the first one to the children and Harry.


**The Lost Tales of Beedle the Bard:**

 **Haika and the Cursed Moonstone**

 _ **-Tuzilla**_

"C'mon kids," said Ginny. "I'll read you a story before bed."

Lily, the youngest of Ginny and Harry's children, ran into the room and sat down next to her on the sofa.

"Hurry up, boys," hollered Harry, who was seated in a comfortable chair off to the side of the couch. "Move it, or it's straight off to bed for both of you."

The boys stopped playing and walked into the room. They sat down next to their sister.

"I have a story you have never heard for a change, boys, so stop acting up," said Ginny as she held up a new book for them to see. "I got it this morning at Flourish & Blotts. It's from a new book called _The Lost Stories of Beedle the Bard_. The stories are from a recently discovered collection of his writings. So, it will be new to all of us."

James and Albus fidgeted a bit as Lily sat ready for the story. James was beginning to feel too old for bedtime stories. Albus was mimicking his brother in an attempt to feel older, as well.

"Okay, boys. Settle down," said Harry as Ginny opened the book. He wished he had the memories of bedtime stories from his missing childhood to remember instead of nights in the broom cupboard at the Dursley's.

"The first story is called Haika and the Cursed Moonstone," said Ginny as she started reading.

 _"There once was a young witch named Haika_ who lived in a small, rural village outside of Tangier. Her skills at potion-making and other magic provided her a position of prominence with the muggles of the area. They came to her with their problems, being them health-related or just about anything else. She was always invited to social affairs and meals at the homes of the many families of the community. None of them suspected her of being a witch.

Despite all of her fame and popularity, she was quietly unhappy. Never in her life had she known or experienced love. None of the men of the village came to call on her. She yearned for a husband with whom she could feel the fulfillment of marriage and children.

As the years passed, she became more and more desperate for that which she did not have. She found herself wanting the attention of a young man named Yusef. He was a handsome, young man who tended a flock of sheep, selling woolen goods, yarn and cheese made from ewe's milk in the market

Drawing on her skills at potion-making, she began to gather the ingredients necessary to brew a love potion. She ground a pearl she had been saving into dust. She gathered peppermint from her garden and refined its oil. She also cut some of her garden roses and carefully removed the needed thorns. Casting incendio at a fallen branch in her yard, she left the fire to burn until it went out. Shortly thereafter, she gathered some ashwinder eggs.

Getting the final ingredient, a moonstone, was going to be a bit more difficult. After some doing, she finally located a possible source. It was an unsavory shop in a notorious back alley of the Tangier Kasbah. She did not like dealing with the people in these shops. The shops were filled with dark, magical sorts. However, she was desperate and this seemed her only option.

The shop sat at the dead-end of the alley. The sign over the door said _**Curiosities from Afar**_. In place of a door was a woven drape that looked to be Chinese.

The shop was lit by a pair of oil lamps that barely provided enough light to navigate the shelves laden with everything from monkey hands to crystals to shrunken heads. It smelled like no place she had ever experienced in the past.

"What brings you here?" asked a withered man in a light blue djellaba and red fez. He had tar-black eyes, and along, scraggly, gray beard and hair, surrounding a huge, gnarled nose.

"I am in need of a moonstone gathered from under a full moon," said Haika

"A moonstone gathered under a full moon, you say," replied the shopkeeper in a worn-out voice. "That is a most uncommon request. What would a young woman such as you want with a moonstone such as that?"

"You needn't bother yourself with my reasons. The business is my own," answered Haifa in a curt voice.

"Very well," said the shopkeeper with a bit of a frown brought on by her sharp tone. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a box. He opened it and pulled out a beautifully polished, milky stone. "I have this very special one gathered under a full spring moon just this year. I can sell it to you for five-hundred dirham.

"Five hundred!" exclaimed Haifa. "Surely it cannot be worth more than two-hundred."

"Two-hundred," said the shopkeeper like he had been insulted. "I can go four-fifty. Not a dirham less."

"Two-fifty," shot back Haifa. "I only want to buy the stone, not the whole shop."

"Four-hundred," he replied. "I can go no lower."

"Three-hundred. That is my final offer," responded Haifa.

"That is your final offer? I will not sell this stone for so little. For three-hundred I can only sell you this stone," said the shopkeeper in a less than friendly tone as he pulled a second moonstone out of the box.

The new stone seemed similar in size to the other. The only difference was it seemed to have a slightly redder tint to it. After a moment of thought, she gave the shopkeeper three-hundred dirham and took the second stone.

She put the stone in her pocket and left the shop for the journey home. She had no idea the stone she had purchased bore a curse. For it had been found under a blood moon. If she had known this, she would have never bought it. It would not work in the ways of a regular moonstone. It had the potential to behave in very unpredictable ways.

Once she returned home, she started brewing the potion with the addition of a few of her hairs in her aged cauldron. After adding the final ingredient, the cursed moonstone, she stirred it until steam began spiraling upward. She could smell her mother's kitchen, the woods and stream near her childhood home, and the saffron crocuses of the surrounding fields. The potion was ready.

She bottled the mother-of-pearl colored potion and concocted a plan to slip some of it to Yusef at the next village gathering. She would bring him a cup of tea laced with the potion. Once he had drunk it, she would be there for him. It was foolproof. What could go wrong?

The village gathered to celebrate the collection of saffron from their fields of crocuses a few weeks later. It was the major source of income for most of the residents. Everyone was there, including Yusef. Haika brought her potion with plans to gather him.

After the villagers had feasted, they began telling stories, singing and dancing. Haika prepared two cups of spearmint tea, one of them dosed with her potion. She presented a cup to Yusef. He thanked her as he took a sip.

Within seconds he was ensnared. He found himself hopelessly infatuated with Haika. She was surely the love of his life. They spent the rest of the evening talking like lovers in the shadows of the festivity.

They began planning their marriage the next day over more cups of tea. Each dose of love potion was strong enough to hold him for at least a day. Her supply should last a few months. By then, they would be married and she would have had time to restock her supply.

Everything went well for three days. Then there was a knock on the door. It was a young lady from an adjacent village named Aziza. She was very upset and began screaming at Yusef. Unknown to Haika, Yusef and Aziza had been engaged in a secret love affair for over a year. They had been planning to run off and get married because their families did not approve of them being together.

Aziza cried and screamed and flailed at Yusef. Yusef, still under the effects of the love potion, acted confused and was unresponsive to her distress. Finally, in an act of desperation, Aziza pulled a koummya from under her robe and plunged it into her breast.

Her hand pulled the blade from her breast as she collapsed against Yusef. Blood erupted from her severed aorta and splattered him. It burned him like devil's fire. He cried out in pain, the effects of the potion suddenly leaving him.

Yusef knelt down beside Aziza as his mind continued to clear. He picked up the koummya as his memories poured back into him and he realized all that had happened even though he did not understand why.

Yusef stood up and turned to Haika. She was unaware that her potion had lost its effect over him. In her mind, she was certain that he was completely hers. She extended her arms, ready to accept his love.

Raising the bloody blade, Yusef thrust the blade into his heart. He fell into her arms. His blood and the blood of Aziza on his robe burned into Haifa's skin like she was being doused with boiling oil.

Haifa fell screaming onto the floor. The blood of Yusef and Aziza acted like acid, eating away at her until her skin was gone. Then it ate her flesh, entrails and finally her bones. When the villagers finally found the scene a couple of days later, all they found were the dead bodies of Aziza and Yusef. _Nothing was left of Haika except for her bloodstained clothes_."


End file.
